You don’t know me

You don’t know me, but you don’t care.

why should you? to you I’m nothing, I’m a brony, you hate us all, so you hate me.

but still, you don’t know me.

It’s easy to hate an empty vessel. something or someone you don’t know, it’s a shell, you can project whatever you think onto it. be it a creeper, or a pervert, or any other nasty things your imagination can comprehend.

let’s make this a little less of  a shell…

it’s just a little harder now, isn’t it?

you still don’t know me.

that merely adds an image to a shell, you can still project your hate. but you don’t know what I do, really, you only know a couple of things I do.

you’ve got no idea when I wake up to start my work, or when I finish and go to sleep. You’ve got no idea that I spend 80% of my time thousands of kilometers from my friends and family for my job, how could you? after all, you don’t know me

You don’t know that I spend large amounts of my free time working on costumes for various conventions, and planning for my holidays where I get to see friends who I rarely get to see. 

but that doesn’t matter to you, you don’t know me.

and you know what, you never will. 

When inflating your ego through lies and badmouthing is all you really care about, you’ve got no interest in learning about me.

or anyone else like me for that matter.

and there’s thousands like me.

but to you, we don’t matter. it’s just that one. the one that even we don’t like, that makes you hate us all, makes you label us all.

but, you don’t know them either, just like you don’t know me….

And I don’t know you..

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